Rice

A great way to use leftover rice and a nice cooked treatment of kimchi, which you can buy at any Korean market if you don’t want to make your own. Good as a side dish with Korean food, this also makes a fine snack or even a main course (add chicken, pork, beef, or shrimp if you like). The butter is a contemporary feature, but it’s how I learned this (from a Korean-American friend), and I like it that way.

Quicker and easier than the preceding recipe, this one usually relies on mushrooms and meat for flavor. Though it’s a cross-cultural technique and not at all traditional, I think adding a small handful of soaked dried porcini to the fresh mushrooms as they cook is a big improvement. You can buy toasted sesame seeds in Korean (and usually Japanese) markets, but toasting them yourself takes less than 5 minutes.

Every culture that relies on rice mixes other common ingredients into it, to boost both flavor and nutrition. Most people are familiar with Fried Rice (page 506) and Coconut Rice (page 516), but this recipe is quite different from those. If you make this dish with red beans only, use all the bean-cooking liquid for the rice; it will give it a lovely pink tinge.

You might scoff at rice balls, and their close cousins, rice sandwiches, but I know plenty of people (self included) who lust after them. Even at their simplest—plain boiled rice, brushed with a little soy sauce and wrapped in a piece of nori—there is something enormously appealing about them. When you try a few of the variations, you’ll find one you like as well. Although there are several different shapes into which the Japanese form rice balls, there is really only one important rule to remember: press the rice just firmly enough to have it hold together; you do not want a tough, packed ball but a loose association of individual clumps. Serve this as a side dish with Japanese food, or as an appetizer.

I had this as a late-night snack in Japan, but it’s great at breakfast, too, a soothing, homey soup that is also good made with tofu or leftover chicken. Even if you don’t have dashi, you can execute this dish in a half hour or so. You can make fresh rice for this, of course, but if you use leftover rice—which is fine—heat it first; the microwave does a fine job of this. Some Japanese make small individual omelets for each bowl, but others use the easier, if somewhat odd, technique of cooking the egg in the soup, as here.

At its most basic, jook is soupy rice, perhaps with some salt or soy sauce. Conceptually, this would not appeal to most Americans, and the notion of congee did not appeal to me for many years. Yet when it was first served to me I thought it miraculous—of course it had a few more ingredients—and it turns out to be even better when made at home, where you can cook the rice in stock rather than water. A great part of a Chinese feast, as well as a wonderful breakfast or lunch.

A simple rice preparation that can serve as a great side dish for a variety of Japanese (and other) dishes. If you don’t have shiso, use fresh mint, basil, cilantro, or a combination.

This popular one-pot dish can be made with meat or vegetables and, like most casseroles, is easily varied. There are, of course, similar dishes throughout East Asia (and throughout this chapter), but this one is made distinctively Japanese by the addition of mirin and even more so if you use dashi for the cooking stock—a terrific touch. Aburage—fried tofu—is available, precooked, at Japanese markets; it’s slightly sweet.

Hearty and warming, this is a popular winter dish in China, and rightly so. If you have a rice cooker, this is a good place to use it; it will allow you both to make the rice and to keep it warm. Even better is to wrap the rice in lotus leaves, as in the variation, which gives it a rich, smoky flavor and produces a dish often served at dim sum brunches. You can find lotus (or banana) leaves, as well as Chinese sausage and dried shrimp, at most Asian markets.

Served throughout China and Southeast Asia, sticky rice has become associated most closely with Thailand, where it is the equivalent of France’s bread, eaten at almost every meal. It’s addictive and easily made at home, as long as you plan ahead a bit. Sticky rice is one of the few grains—indeed, foods—that can be prepared without salt and still taste great.

Here the shopping is more challenging than the cooking, but it’s worth the hunt: this tart rice preparation goes well with almost all Japanese food. It’s pretty as well. Umeboshi (pickled plum) is available at all Japanese markets. Shiso is a seasonal herb that you may have trouble finding in winter; substitute a mixture of basil and mint or just one or the other.You can also use a rice cooker to cook the rice here.

You can make short-grain rice in the same way as long-grain rice, but this traditional method, which takes a little more time, is slightly preferable.

Leftover rice is not only acceptable here but practically mandatory: fresh or warm rice does not fry well, but clumps together and sticks to the wok. You need cold, stale rice, which separates during cooking. If you have neither roast pork (even the Cuban Lechon Asado, page 375, will work) nor Chinese sausage, ham is a fine substitute. No meat at all is fine, too, of course; see the variations.

I first ate this soupy stew (or stewy soup) at a lunch counter in Istanbul and was taken by its depth of flavor. It seemed that either the whole was greater than the sum of its parts or there were some hidden ingredients. It turned out to be the former, or nearly so; through an interpreter, I learned that the dish did not begin with stock but with water and that the only ingredient I was not seeing was a bit of garlic. The cook offered that one might add a bit of butter for richness but that he hadn’t done so with this batch. If you want to turn this into a more filling main course, use stock instead of water, add some cubed boneless chicken or lamb, season it with a little cumin or dill, and finish it with lemon. You’ll wind up with a bigger, more substantial Turkish-style stew, though not necessarily a better one.

It seems every country that grows rice makes rice pudding, and almost every experienced cook has his or her own technique. After years of playing with it, this is the one I like best, and it works well with the variations of most cuisines. In many cases rice pudding is simply milk bound by rice; often the amount of rice is well under 10 percent of the total. I prefer this recipe with just 1/4 cup, no more. The result is a thick milk custard with a recognizable but understated rice presence. If you want a dense and slightly chewier mixture, use the larger amount of rice. Other possible additions to rice pudding: a strip of lemon zest, a pinch of saffron threads, or a teaspoon of ground cardamom added at the beginning; a couple of tablespoons of raisins and/or slivered pistachios stirred in at the end. See the variations, and the following recipes, too—this group of recipes is unending.

A recipe from my friend Sumana Chatterjee, whose family lives in Calcutta. The ingredient list, obviously, could not be shorter, but don’t be deceived: This is a labor-intensive dish, best made on a cool day (we made it on a hot one and lost about five pounds each) when you are going to be in the kitchen for a long time. Having said that, it is wonderful stuff, creamy and delicious, representative of the scores of different milk desserts made throughout India.

A lovely yellow rice pudding, with the exotic flavor of saffron; interestingly, it’s dairy free. Use cinnamon or cardamom in addition to (or in place of) the rose water (available in small bottles at Middle Eastern stores) if you like.

Palm sugar, or jaggery, is dark, unrefined sugar made from a variety of sources, including the sap of the palm tree. It can be chunky and must be broken up; dark brown sugar is a nearly perfect substitute. This dish is great with slices of ripe fresh mango.

A quicker, easier version of the preceding coconut milk pudding, this simple dessert is popular at food markets throughout Southeast Asia. Great with mangoes or any other ripe tropical fruit.

How quick-cooking rice came into existence I’ll never know, given how easy this is. Basically, you can cook long-grain rice any way you want to, as long as you use sufficient water and stop the cooking (draining excess water if necessary) before it becomes mush. This is the most straightforward method.